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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682328">i dream about it (and i wake up falling)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicpanicaftermidnight/pseuds/manicpanicaftermidnight'>manicpanicaftermidnight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Waterparks (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Flashbacks, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Sleepy Cuddles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:33:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicpanicaftermidnight/pseuds/manicpanicaftermidnight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Awsten wakes up from a dream that wrecks him, and Otto provides comfort.</p><p><i>Otto’s arms are strong and sure around him, and Awsten can feel his friend’s chest rising and falling softly against his back. Being held like this is a feeling he hasn’t had, hasn’t </i>really<i> had in a while, not since… well. </i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Awsten Knight/Otto Wood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i dream about it (and i wake up falling)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hiiiiiiiii this is totally just something to get my emotions out<br/>I know that awsten did say in his book that he did have dreams about. that person. but honestly I based this totally off my own experiences, even the little details. the person in question is not mentioned by name, and I kept my speculation very vague out of respect. </p><p>trigger warning for nightmares / flashback - type dreams as well as panic attack-like symptoms including mentions of nausea. </p><p>title is taken from me &amp; my dog by boygenius and some dialogue at the end is borrowed from graceland too by phoebe bridgers.. lol</p><p>I hope everyone is well. I hope you never have dreams like these... and if you do, I hope you have an Otto to cuddle you after :p</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He hasn’t seen her face this close in so long. </p><p>And he fucking missed it too - all the little sunspots peeking through her makeup, the subtle crows feet by her eyes, the shape of her jaw. They’re details he never wants to forget, the things that make her stand out from the rest. It feels right, like coming home. </p><p>“Are you ready?” she asks, in her beautiful voice. </p><p>He looks down, and she’s in a white gown. He’s in a suit, too, dressed to the nines except for his shoes… sneakers he hasn’t worn in forever. He must’ve left them at her place. Doesn’t matter. They’re on a stage decorated with flowers and balloons, and there’s rose petals on the ground around them. </p><p>Everyone he knows is in rows by the stage. He focuses on distinct faces in the mass: family members, executives from the record label, friends from back home in Houston as well as new ones from LA. Oddly, he sees the waiter who used to serve them at their favorite restaurant. They’re all there to see them married. Each one of them is wearing a big smile, all excited, expectant. His heart could burst with it, the exuberant energy in the room, so full of love and hope.</p><p>Who is he to keep them waiting? </p><p>He’s done it a million times before, taking her face in his, bringing her into a kiss, but it’s even sweeter now. Like fine wine, aged overtime, their best kiss is always the most recent time he’s done it. He moves his mouth against hers, and it’s bliss, it’s rapture, it’s everything he’s ever wanted. </p><p>She’s warm in his arms, solid, and he holds her close like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. She fits against him so easily, so perfectly it feels too good to be true. It’s not something you forget easily - the size of someone in your arms, the taste of their mouth on yours. Unique to her and downright entrancing. He’s taken by her, enough to walk on water, enough to brave a thousand tribulations. The crowd cheers. </p><p>And then Awsten wakes up. </p><p>He feels like he’s rotting. He feels like all the organs in his chest, his heart, his lungs, have been ripped out, and he’s lying there, empty. The images flash through his head on repeat - the white lace of her dress, the signature hue of her eyes, so bright and happy, looking directly into his. He wants to throw up. He wants to cry. And before he knows it, he is. </p><p>The bunks they have on the tour bus are suffocating. In the dark, Awsten’s chest heaves, lanky limbs all tangled in his sweaty blankets as he tries to breathe clean air in the stuffy space. He yanks open the pleather curtain separating him from the rest of the bus, taking dramatic gulps of the fresh air that floods in. Staying in his little bunk one second longer feels like it’s gonna kill him, so on unsteady footing, cheeks getting wetter by the second, he clambers out. </p><p>If there weren’t people around to judge him, like Geoff, Otto, Jawn and the others all asleep in their bunks, he’d just lay on the floor there and wail. He isn’t above doing that either, he’d do it at home almost every night. Unfortunately, when they’re on tour he has to act like an adult, try to muffle his cries and get his episode over with as soon as possible so no one catches on. He’s been such a mess for so long that involving his friends would only complicate things.</p><p>Pressing his sweater paws to his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears, Awsten quietly moves to sob on the couch they have built into the bus’ wall and pulls his knees up to his chest. The bus is dark, save for the occasional headlights from passing cars filtering in through the window. It hurts, everything hurts, his head still swimming with sleep but heart filled with pins from the painful imagery his stupid brain subjected him to. He can only hope the droning sounds of the moving bus drown him out. Although, the occasional jolts of the wheels underneath him aren’t helping to calm him down either, considering he was shaking to begin with. </p><p>On some level, he knows it never could have happened. A happy ending wasn’t possible after all the shit she put him through. Looking back, though, at all his favorite memories, it seemed so close. Maybe if he just pushed harder, checked up on her more, he would’ve been able to reach the version of forever he wanted so badly. Then again, why would he want a future with someone who’d treat him the way she did? He shouldn’t have to work so hard, or at all, for basic human decency, right? It’s a difficult argument to give a shit about with the feeling of her lips still on his mind. Really, he just wants things to be easy, morality be damned. </p><p>He gets lost in the thought, the pressure in his face compounding which each sob that wracks his body, when Otto clumsily pulls back his bunk’s curtain.</p><p>His voice is crackly, soft with sleep. “Awsten? What are you doing?” </p><p>Immediately, in a shock like he’s been dunked in freezing water, Awsten gets his act together. “I’m sorry if I woke you up,” he croaks out, trying his absolute best to sound like he hasn’t been crying. </p><p>Otto sighs through his nose, seemingly biding his time before he has to respond. </p><p>Awsten snorts back all his snot on instinct, and doesn’t think until after he’s done it about how gross that is, and how it’s a dead giveaway for what he was doing. He’s exhausted as shit, and can’t think straight. Leaving his bunk was probably a bad idea. Sound travels better in the open living space. </p><p>Otto pushes the curtain to his bunk down further, until it’s almost all the way open, before using one hand to hold his covers up. “Come here,” he says, somewhere between a light question and a command. </p><p>“Are you serious?” Awsten asks, and tries not to think too hard about how waterlogged his voice sounds. </p><p>“Are you?” </p><p>Awsten scoffs. “We haven’t had to share a bed in like, years. We were kids then.”</p><p>“I’m not looking for an argument,” Otto says, waving the hand holding the blanket around, “I’m just trying…” he trails off, unsure of where to go next, “... just, my arm’s getting tired, alright? Do you want in or not?” </p><p>Awsten rubs away at his wet face one last time before rising up from the couch. It’s only a few steps to Otto’s bunk, but with his head still pounding and hands still shaking, he has to use every bit of energy he has to walk over and lay down without making a fool of himself and collapsing. </p><p>When he does snuggle in, though, a whole new set of perpetuating thoughts enters his brain. Otto’s arms are strong and sure around him, and Awsten can feel his friend’s chest rising and falling softly against his back. His hot breath fans out on Awsten’s neck. Being held like this is a feeling he hasn’t had, hasn’t <i>really</i> had in a while, not since… well. </p><p>Otto pulls him from the train of thought, speaking “Wanna close the curtain?” It’s slurred, quiet but close against his skin. Awsten can feel him say it, feel the way his throat shapes the word when he’s pressed this close. </p><p>Wordlessly, Awsten reaches to pull the pleated curtain closed. Otto’s bunk is twice as big as his, but Awsten’s guessing the way he can feel himself breathing easier has more to do with the steady hold his friend has on him than the space above their heads.</p><p>The fabric of his shirt suddenly feels much thinner now that Otto’s body is pressed to his. </p><p>Awsten’s mind drifts back to the dream, to the crowd, to the white net of the veil falling around her shoulders. The worst part is it really was so close to being that good, they were so close to making it that far, even though the thought of her disgusts him now. His whole body tenses up again, entirely against his will, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. </p><p>“Hey,” Otto coos, quiet and subdued, “it's okay. I’m right here.”</p><p>His hands are so sure and warm as he starts rubbing at Awsten’s sides in reassuring, drawn-out strokes. It makes Awsten glad he’s the little spoon; his icy, fumbling grip isn’t all that nice to be held in anyways. Otto squeezes at his waist in an effort to relax him, hand moving to rub comfortingly at his stomach, easing the nausea and uncomfortable tension built up there. His arm is heavy where it drapes over Awsten’s side. Distantly, through a dull headache and a thick fog of exhaustion, Awsten feels remorse for waking him up and taking up space in his bed. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he grits out, using a conscious determination to just lay still, to not tense up and bother Otto again. </p><p>He just nuzzles his forehead between Awsten’s shoulder blades. “Nothing to be sorry for. But even if there was, it’d be alright.” His hands are toasty warm, the blankets so soft around them. “You’re alright.” </p><p>Otto’s touch is heavy from drowsiness, almost a little rough for what he’s trying to do, as he pets more circles around Awsten’s sides. Awsten does his best to focus on the feeling of Otto against him in an effort not to let the creeping thoughts back in. It isn’t hard to get caught up in, as it’s a bit overwhelming. He doesn’t think he’s ever been touched like this, surrounded by the sensation, no motivation behind the action except to comfort and soothe. Once Otto’s pace gives away to gentler, smaller touches, he eventually pauses to squeeze Awsten close one last time before relaxing completely. </p><p>“I would do anything…” he trails off, and Awsten knows he must be seconds from sleep from his voice alone, if the languid weight of him wasn’t an indication enough. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do.” It comes out as barely a whisper, trailing off until it blends in with the rumbling of the bus. </p><p>The sentiment is a fresh shock to Awsten’s system, blotting out any looming thoughts he was fighting to keep away. Breathing deep in the safe darkness of Otto’s bunk, Awsten feels so loved that his head is spinning with it. It’s easy to fall asleep then, and when he dreams, it’s sweet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! leave a like if you liked it! and comments are always doubly appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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